Faith - Lesley Pearse [180]
He had come twice, and so had she, and she was kneeling in front of him giving him a blow job when the phone rang. She let it ring, but Howie barked at her to answer it because it was putting him off.
It was Belle and she was crying. ‘You’ve got to come over here at once,’ she sobbed. ‘Something terrible has happened.’
Laura’s stomach lurched. Belle had only moved up to Scotland a couple of months earlier, and she’d seemed to have become aloof and cold in the couple of years since they last met. She had never phoned Laura before, and for her to do so now it had to be a real emergency. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
She could hear a male voice in the background, and it sounded as if he was almost wrestling with Belle to stop her saying anything more, but the only words she heard clearly were ‘not over the telephone’, then the phone suddenly went dead.
Stoned as Laura was, a sixth sense told her that it was something to do with Barney.
‘What is it?’ Howie asked, for she’d sunk down on to the floor by the phone.
‘I think something has happened to Barney,’ she gasped.
‘Who the fuck is Barney?’ Howie asked. His aggressive tone and the way he was standing above her, stark naked, suddenly made her aware of the sordid nature of the scene.
‘My son,’ she snapped. ‘And cover yourself up.’
She rushed to find the phone book then and with trembling fingers rang Kirkmay House. The phone rang and rang, and as she waited for it to be answered, her heart was racing dangerously. She was just snatching up the bedspread to cover herself, when a man finally answered.
‘Belle phoned a few minutes ago. Please tell me what’s happened. It’s Laura Brannigan, was it about my son?’
There was a second or two’s silence as if he was considering what he should tell her. Then, ‘There’s been a car accident. The police called to tell Belle that her sister has been taken to hospital in Kirkcaldy,’ the man said.
‘But what about Barney?’ she asked frantically. ‘Was he with her?’
His hesitation was enough.
‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’ she cried out. The room was spinning round her and she was clinging to the telephone receiver as if that would stop it. ‘Just tell me! I don’t know who you are, but for God’s sake tell me the truth.’
‘I’m John and I’m just staying here,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t receive terrible news like this on the phone, from a stranger, but I’ll have to tell you now. Yes, he’s dead, Laura, and I’m so very sorry.’
She put the phone down and clutching the bedspread round her tighter sank down on to the floor. ‘He’s dead, Howie,’ she gasped. ‘My little boy is dead.’
‘Strewth!’ he exclaimed, and when she looked up he was buttoning his shirt, not even looking at her.
‘Is that all you can say?’ she asked.
She could smell a rank odour of sex and sweat, and it was coming from both of them. They had spent all afternoon doing the most intimate things to each other, yet he didn’t even move to hold and comfort her.
‘You bastard!’ she exclaimed.
‘What?’ he said, and it was at that moment she noticed his eyes were as cold and blank as a dead fish’s. ‘Hell, I didn’t want anything heavy. It was just a bit of fun.’
‘Get out of here,’ she yelled at him, and seeing one of his shoes close to her she threw it at him. ‘I just hope one day you get a phone call like that and find out what it feels like.’
He picked up that shoe, then the other one, and without putting them on, he turned and walked out without another word.
‘Vuole qualcosa da bere, signorina?’
Laura was startled by the young waiter asking her if she wanted a drink – she hadn’t heard him come up behind her. She hoped her sunglasses hid her tears.
‘Vino rosso, per